


Far, Far Better

by monimala



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, POV Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monimala/pseuds/monimala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after 3.06, "Ariel." <i>He knew from the moment he set foot in Neverland that he would die here.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Far, Far Better

He knew it would come to this. Perhaps not how, perhaps not when, but he knew from the moment he set foot in Neverland that he would die here. You never truly left. This place moored you, tied you, docked you. A permanent home for what passed for your mortal soul. He just hadn't expected it to _hurt_ quite so terribly.

Pain spread upwards, leaving numbness in its wake, like poison racing towards his heart. Only Dreamshade would've been kinder. He couldn't feel his legs, but he could still hear the sounds of battle raging around him. And Henry shouting, with what sounded like relief, "Mom! Mom!" He'd succeeded then. His bloody grand gesture. Saving Emma's boy. Saving Baelfire's boy. Milah's flesh and blood.

He shifted, forcing his eyes open as his head fell to the side. And suddenly her face filled his entire field of vision. Pale and beautiful. Haunted with worry. They'd be together soon. At least he'd have that, after all this time.

The thunder and lightning of swords and arrows faded. Until all he felt was rain on his face. And all he heard was voices.

"No! Oh, no."

"We have to get him to the water."

"It's too late. We'll never make it in time."

'It can't be too late. It's _not_ too late."

The ground shook beneath him. No, _he_ shook. His coat in her hands as she thumped him and demanded, "Look at me. Look at me, damn you."

Not Milah's voice. Not Milah's face. Not Milah's eyes, big with tears and anger. Emma. Emma in all his senses. I'll never stop looking, he wanted to promise, but his throat was already gone. Waiting for the rest of him to catch up.

"Mom, you have to save him."

"He's dying, Henry. Even I don't have the power to stop that."

"No." Pale cheeks. Wide, blue-gray eyes. His brave, beautiful swan. "No, this is _not_ how this ends. Not after everything."

She was the only one who believed that. The Savior. _His_ savior.

He tried to smile. To reassure her. The weary bones of his face felt like a ghastly mask. But soon it would all be over. Soon he would be gone, and she would be gone and this would be nothing more than a memory.

She bent over him, her hair sweeping across his face, his throat. Another blessing after her grief. Another benediction. "You are not a martyr, Killian Jones," she said against his lips. So sweet. So sweet and so very furious. "You hear me? You're a pirate. And pirates _fight_."

No. He wasn't a pirate any longer. He hadn't been for weeks. He'd simply been a man.

"Emma, honey. You have to let him go."

"I am not losing another person. Not here. Not _now_."

With the last of his strength, he opened his mouth to agree with her mother. To at least shape the word "please." But all he tasted was her breath. Her tongue. Her damp, desperate lips.

Oh, Swan. Reckless, hopeful Swan. For such a kiss to work, it needed to be love...

His eyelids fluttered shut. The numbness took hold like an ice block pressed against every inch of his body.

_Milah. Wait for me._

And then a great gulf of air swept into his lungs.

A thousand pins and needles pricked his skin.

Emma. Emma in all his senses.

In his heart, which beat so loudly that his ears roared with the blood.

"Wh-what?" Now his voice worked. Faster than his mind. "I-I don't..."

She stroked the side of his face with the backs of her fingers, settling back on her knees beside him. For just a moment, her gaze left his. Flickered to those standing about. Her parents. The queen. Henry. Neal. "You forgot. There's one thing just as strong as True Love."

She answered the unspoken question without prompting. Without reservation.

"Hope."

 

 

\--end--

 

November 4, 2013


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